by Linda Wiken
J.J. could figure out where the conversation was heading. He confirmed it with his next statement.
“Look, J.J. I’m sorry if I might have given you the wrong impression. I wasn’t trying to lead you on. I thought we were good friends.”
“We are good friends, Connor. I didn’t expect or want anything more than that. Believe me. Now the only thing that’s important is to figure out who the killer is and get you off the hook. Promise me you’ll talk to Detective Hastings tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I will.”
She gave him a big hug and a small kiss on the cheek, and left.
CHAPTER 31
It took J.J. a long time to fall asleep. She sat up for hours while going over everything Connor had said. It had reinforced her belief in his innocence. She had to trust that he would indeed follow through and call Detective Hastings in the morning. She hoped he would, because that was a call she didn’t want to make.
She also stewed about not having heard all day from Devine. Surely he’d been back to talk to Watts. She was itching to know what had happened. Was he now cutting her out of the scene? That man!
Indie wasn’t happy with her restlessness. He kept jumping on the bed and snuggling down only to jump off when she would turn over. Finally, after a check on the time—three A.M.—they both fell asleep.
Her clock radio went on at its usual six thirty, and J.J. struggled to open her eyes. She knew she had to get out of bed right away or she was doomed. If she fell back asleep, bad dreams and a day of sloth would follow.
She fumbled her way to the kitchen and got an espresso going, then backtracked to the bathroom. Her eyes eventually stayed open, and she headed back to the espresso machine. Indie demanded his breakfast, so she tended to that first and then sat at the counter, sipping her elixir.
She needed to call Devine. He might not be too pleased that she waited until morning to fill him in. Of course, Hastings would be upset, also. But that wasn’t her call to make.
She punched in Devine’s number and was surprised when he answered on the first ring. She explained her talk with Connor, and he told her he’d be over in half an hour, before she left for work. That woke her up. She let out a small shriek, which startled Indie and sent him running toward her bedroom. She followed, and less than fifteen minutes later had showered, played with her hair, and dressed in a navy business suit with a navy and white polka-dot blouse. She had a meeting with her client later in the afternoon, and she wanted the extra confidence the suit gave her when meeting with Devine.
Devine had two lattes in hand when he arrived. She gratefully accepted one and drank nearly half before acknowledging that he was sitting at her counter, waiting to hear her story. When she told it, she waited while he had an equally long drink before talking.
“What made you think to check out his apartment?”
“What you said about something being right in front of you.” She was mortified to feel her cheeks getting hotter. She hoped he’d put it down to the coffee.
“Well, it was good detecting. Do you believe him about talking to Hastings?”
She nodded with more assurance than she actually felt. “He just needed some time alone. He wasn’t running. He’s innocent and knows the real killer will be found.”
Devine snorted. “Okay, let’s see what we can do to help move this along. What was the first thing that came to mind when he talked about Miranda’s concerns?”
“I thought that something hinky might be going on between Yolande Myers and the campaign manager.”
“Hinky?” His eyebrows rose in amusement. “As in having an affair?”
“No, I didn’t go straight there. I was thinking something to do with the campaign, but I’m not sure what.” She paused and gave it some thought. “But it could be an affair, couldn’t it?”
She looked at Devine, who didn’t comment. He seemed to be encouraging her to keep going.
“Okay,” she said, getting more into the idea, “but that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. He doesn’t seem her type at all. I can’t imagine them together.”
He chuckled. “You could be right, but sometimes the oddest couples get together.”
“But if it’s true, what would Miranda have done about it? It’s right in the middle of her brother’s campaign. It would be quite a scandal, wouldn’t it? If it got out?” She drew in a quick breath. “You don’t think Miranda threatened to expose it, do you? No, she wouldn’t do that and hurt her brother’s campaign. But she might tell her brother. He would fire his campaign manager, but there must be other people around qualified to step in. He may have been devastated, though, and not able to carry on. Or, being a political being, he could have taken it in stride. And maybe he would agree to stay with his wife until after the election. So, why kill Miranda over it?”
Devine sat there grinning.
“What?”
“You realize you’ve just had an entire conversation with yourself and come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be a motive for murder?”
J.J. grimaced. “I could be wrong. What do you think?”
“I think you could be right or wrong. We don’t know how the brother would react to that news, and once one person knows, it’s hard to keep it secret. All it would take is someone to overhear something or any number of possibilities.”
“So, one—are they having an affair? And two—is Yolande Myers or Fletcher Kane the killer?”
Devine thought for a few minutes. “I don’t know any of those answers. Not enough information. But it’s worth digging into, that’s for sure. We need to hit that campaign office this morning, if Kane is out, especially now that we have something more specific to be asking. I’ll make the call to check on his whereabouts as soon as it opens.”
“And do you plan on telling me what happens this time?”
Devine looked confused.
“You didn’t get back to me about Sergeant Watts. You did meet up with him again, didn’t you?”
Devine hit his forehead with the heel of his hand and looked to be in the throes of remorse. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How could I have forgotten to put a hold on my investigating an insurance fraud that was about to be solved and call you about a meeting that yielded nothing?”
She didn’t know what urge was stronger—to smack him or laugh. “Forget the dramatics. What happened?”
“I stopped in at the station. He saw me coming and walked the other way, so I walked into Hastings’s office and we had a chat. I don’t know what happened after that. Really, that’s it. Now, are you on your way to work?”
“As you’ve pointed out on occasion, I do have a job, so, yes.”
“I sort of thought that you looked dressed to persuade rather than to sit alone at home.” He grinned.
• • •
J.J. sat eyeing the clock that hung above the filing cabinet in her office. It was getting close to noon and Devine still hadn’t called. He wouldn’t have gone to the campaign headquarters by himself, would he have? She didn’t really know the answer to that. She didn’t entirely trust him; that much was for sure. Maybe she should just go over on her own. If they left it too much longer, it would be time for her client meeting. She hated not knowing.
Devine wouldn’t like it, but she had a life, too. She grabbed her jacket and purse and practically sprinted down the stairs to the parking lot. What would she do if Fletcher Kane were in his office? She didn’t want to see him just yet. She was really hoping that Dawn, the friendly volunteer, would be the one who was working at that moment. Maybe she could help fold and stuff envelopes for a couple of hours and slide in the questions along the way. But what would she ask? Do you know if your candidate’s wife is having an affair with your candidate’s campaign manager? Not likely. Something would come to her.
She pulled into the only empty spot in the lot next to the headquarters. She took a good look at the street for any signs of Devine, but his car wasn’t to be seen. Maybe she should have waited. Or maybe he’d al
ready been and gone. This was not a time to be indecisive.
She walked in and immediately spotted Dawn at the same moment as the volunteer saw her. Dawn waved her over, and J.J. obliged, glancing toward Kane’s office. He wasn’t in there but he could be lurking in a back room or something. She’d have to be cautious about what she said.
“How’s the pile of paper going?” J.J. asked as she sat in a chair across the desk from Dawn.
Dawn grinned. “I finished it that day.” She waved her hand over her desk. “And now I have a new pile.”
“Do you know if Fletcher Kane is in?” She glanced in the direction of his office. “I want to ask him a few things.”
“He’ll be out of the office most of the day, but if you have any spare time, we could sure use your help doing some stuffing,” Dawn pleaded, a grin on her face.
Hah! As I’d hoped. “Well, I can spare a half hour if that helps. I wouldn’t want this to be a wasted trip.”
“That’s great. All we’re doing is stuffing from that box to that stack of envelopes.”
“I can manage that,” J.J. acknowledged, and removed her suit jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair.
“You look very businesslike today.” Dawn looked down at her own copper-colored textured pullover. J.J.’s eyes followed along, admiring how it offset her auburn hair.
“You’re the second person who’s told me that. And here I always thought I looked like I meant business.” She smiled.
“Oops. I’m sure you do,” Dawn said, giggling. She glanced over at the door. “Hey, isn’t that your friend?”
J.J. followed her gaze to an unhappy-looking Devine. She knew a forced smile when she saw one.
“Hi,” he said as he looked at the name tag and added, “Dawn.” That smile was genuine.
J.J. wasn’t quite sure what to say without pandering or giving things away to Dawn. So she said nothing.
“I’m glad you’ve found a way to be useful. Don’t let me disturb anything,” Devine said, then wandered to a table at the back of the room where two young blondes were taking a coffee break. They broke into wide smiles as he approached, and J.J. quickly shifted her attention back to the flyers.
“Are you two an item?” Dawn asked.
“What?”
“Well, it’s just that you seem mad at each other, and the way you looked at each other when he came in. Seems like something’s going on. Or am I sticking my nose into it? Everyone’s always telling me I do that, but I’m, like, interested. Okay, nosy.”
“No. It’s all right.” She tried to gauge Dawn. Could she just ask her straight out? “You know I’m an event coordinator and I organized the casino night where Miranda Myers was murdered.”
Dawn nodded.
“Well, I’m trying to figure out what happened.”
“What about the police? Wait, none of my business. It’s just so freaky and sad. Gary hasn’t shown up here much since it happened, and when he does, you can tell how hard it is for him to hold it together. We all feel so bad for him.”
“Do you know his wife?”
“Yolande? Of course. She helps here sometimes. She’s pretty upset, too.”
That wasn’t the impression J.J. had, but she tried to keep from showing her surprise. “And Miranda. I know she helped out here sometimes.”
“Oh yeah. She was real cool. A big TV personality like that. And the dynamite clothes with that fab figure. I know the guys in here were drooling.”
“So, everyone liked her? She didn’t have any arguments with anyone?”
“No way.”
“Ouch.” J.J. looked embarrassed. “Sorry, I just got a paper cut. I shouldn’t make such a big deal of it.”
“I get those all the time and they hurt. Go ahead and swear if you want.”
J.J. laughed. “Maybe not out loud. Do you have a bandage? I don’t want to muck up the flyers.”
Dawn pulled a box out of the drawer and handed it to J.J. “You know, I think she did get into it one day with Fletcher.”
J.J. finished covering the cut and then looked at Dawn. “What do you mean? An argument?”
“Well, I’m not too sure, but it sort of looked like it. She looked mad when she walked in, and she went straight to his office. She didn’t even stop to say hi to any of us, and that wasn’t like her. I couldn’t hear anything of course, but it did look like she was arguing. He just stood there in that controlled way of his, but he didn’t look too happy.”
“When was that?”
“Oh, I’m not sure, a month ago maybe.”
“What about Yolande? Did she ever get mad at Fletcher?”
Dawn scrunched her face, like she was thinking it over. “Not like that. She was in his office with the door closed one day, and he did all the talking. When she walked out, her face was beet red and she left right away. You know, I’m not being nosy all the time. My desk does face his office.”
J.J. smiled. “Being observant is always a good thing.” She glanced over at the back table. “I think I’ll grab some coffee. Is that all right? Can I get some for you?”
“Oh, sure. Just help yourself. Yeah, I’d like some. One sugar, lots of milk. Thanks.”
J.J. went straight to the coffee machine on the table, trying to listen at the same time to what Devine was saying to the two blondes who were still there. There was a lot of laughing going on. Humph.
She didn’t hear him come up behind her, and she almost dropped the milk she was pouring into Dawn’s coffee.
“How’s it going?”
“Just fine. Dawn is very observant. How about your friends?”
“I think we should compare notes. Are you about ready to leave?”
“After I finish this coffee. I don’t want to be too abrupt about it, but I have that client meeting in an hour.”
“How about we meet at McCreedy’s for a drink around five? Or are you planning on coming back here to do some more nosing around?”
She made a face but knew he couldn’t see it. “McCreedy’s it is.”
J.J. drank her coffee quickly as she finished her pile of flyers and listened with half an ear to Dawn as she continued talking about the campaign itself. Part of her brain was trying to figure out what all the arguing meant.
And was it a motive for murder?
CHAPTER 32
Devine was waiting for her when she walked through the front door of McCreedy’s. Her meeting had been delayed and then went longer than expected because of continuous interruptions. Her client apologized but explained they were on a deadline. J.J. decided it was better to keep her thoughts to herself.
“What would you like?” he asked as she sat across from him.
“A glass of wine, thanks. The house red is fine.”
“Busy afternoon?”
She grimaced. “Let’s not go there.”
“Okay. Let’s go back to the campaign office, then.” He sat looking at her.
She shrugged and raised her palms. “I gave up waiting. I thought you’d gone on your own, and I had this meeting coming up, so I just drove over.”
“What if Fletcher Kane had been there?”
“I would have thought of something. Maybe signed up as a volunteer.”
“It looked like that’s what you’d done.”
“I thought if we were working together, she’d be more willing to talk.”
“And?” He took a sip of his scotch while J.J. filled him in.
“So is that suspicious or what?”
“It could mean anything. Or it could be that Miranda knew about an affair, and he tried to convince her not to talk.”
“And his confrontation with Yolande?”
“Lovers’ spat?” Devine’s eyebrows shot up in a question mark.
“Hmm. What about you? Did you learn anything from those staffers, aside from their phone numbers?”
“Ouch. You really don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”
J.J. felt immediately chastised. “I’m sorry. That was
sort of catty.”
“You think? Anyway, I did learn something. There’s gossip that the manager is having an affair, not with Yolande Myers, but with someone in the office. Nobody has a clue who it is, though, so it could be pure conjecture. There are no rumblings whatsoever about him and Yolande, so either they’re extremely careful or it’s not happening.”
“I sort of hate to see that theory get thrown out.”
“It seems to me I’ve heard that before. As an investigator, you can’t get too attached to any theory. It’s just that until you have proof.”
“Ah, so now you think of me as an investigator.” She smiled, Cheshire-like.
“That’s not at all how I think about you.” Her spine tingled at the suggestive tone of his voice. But it disappeared at his next words. “But that’s how you seem to see yourself, so I’m just saying.”
J.J. tried to hide her confusion. “I haven’t tried calling Connor today to see how it went.”
“Why don’t you give him a call right now? I’m also curious as to what the police said.”
She nodded and pulled out her smartphone. It went to voice. “You don’t think they locked him up, do you?”
He shrugged. “It depends on what parts of his story they believe. Or if they have another suspect in their sights. They also might lock him up because he ran away.”
“I’m calling Alison. She might know.” She ended up leaving another message and heaving a sigh. “I feel there’s too much going on. We need to narrow this down and focus. Who do you think are the most likely suspects?”
“Connor Mac. Sorry, but it’s true. And, yes, Mikey Cooper. He swears he was mad at his dad, not at Miranda. But you never know—it could have gotten out of control.”
“What about Hennie Ferguson?”
He shrugged. “Could be, but highly unlikely. She doesn’t really have one strong motive, unless she did it to help Mikey. She could be an accomplice, in that case.”
J.J. nodded. “What about the cop?”
“Still a possibility, but I bet Hastings is all over him right about now.”